


Tomorrow's Gonna Be Better, Kid

by WickedScribbles



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5658979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedScribbles/pseuds/WickedScribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Underground is saved and all should be well, but eleven-year-old Frisk is plagued with terrifying nightmares. Luckily, a pair of skeleton brothers are there to help. Little prologue type thing to my main story, "No Bones About It". Oneshot. Rated T for some graphic night terrors and panic attacks. Hope you like!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow's Gonna Be Better, Kid

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! A little fic that I also have posted over at FF.net. Since progress on my main story has been halted for the time being, I thought I'd post this in case no one has seen it. I hope you like it! Be warned; night terrors and panic attacks. 
> 
> Ever scandalous, 
> 
> WickedScribbles

It always started like this.

There was a monster in her brain, and it only surfaced when she was asleep, too weak to fight it away. She closed her eyes and told herself every night that she would win eventually, but Frisk just couldn't see it happening. Why was the nighttime so bad? Why did everything come back when she most needed to sleep? Frisk tried not to let Toriel know how often she shook herself awake, bawling into her pillow as she fought hard not to wake anyone up.

Sometimes, though, she just couldn't help it. The monster breathed down her neck, screamed its fury in her face, laughed as it watched her die and die and die. She always fought it in the pitch black, never knowing where it would be - yet at the same time it was everywhere. And nearly every night she was squeezed to death with vines, fried up with lasers, burned in a blaze of flame, or gobbled up in a fanged, drooling maw. And all the while, it shrieked with laughter. It grinned at her, its hundreds of eyes lit up with a killing lust.

There was no escape.

During the day, Frisk thought about it. And with every hour that brought her closer to bedtime, she dreaded it. When she finally had to lie down and close her eyes, fear rolled over her in waves. She began telling lies, and it filled her with shame.

 _Are you doing okay today, Frisk?_ Yes.

 _Feeling better?_ Of course.

 _Want to talk about it?_ Oh, no. No, I'm fine.

Once, just once, she wanted to see what reaction she'd receive if she gave an honest answer. Would she be made fun of, for still being afraid after all this time? Would Toriel tell her it was all in her head and that she should get over it? That was another big fear for Frisk; voicing her problems and having them swatted away like they weren't important. Maybe they weren't. Maybe she wasn't. So she said nothing.

Frisk hadn't slept at all the night before her adoptive mother dropped her off with her favorite pair of skeletons in Snowdin for the day. She had Queenly duties to attend to, and as her little human was only eleven and a half, Frisk was considered much too young to be home alone. Frisk had more than proved herself capable of being on her own, but after all the trouble she had been through, Toriel was downright adamant that she never be alone. Frisk didn't really mind, but at the same time knew her mother had nothing to worry about; she would never run away from home again.

"Be good for Sans and Papyrus, okay, dear?" Toriel asked, crouching down to give Frisk a kiss on the top of her head. She could only nod to agree; her tongue was too heavy and she was too exhausted to give a verbal reply. Her mother waved goodbye, the door clicked shut behind her, and she was gone.

"HIYA, LITTLE HUMAN!" Papyrus came dashing down the stairs from his room to greet her, picking her up without the slightest bit of strain. Frisk couldn't help but smile; his infectious energy always made her feel a little better. "The Queen has entrusted you to my care today, and she was very clever in doing so! For today, you and I are going to have a _delightful_ time!"

Frisk nodded eagerly to let him know she was looking forward to it, even if she _was_ running on fumes.

Papyrus cocked his head to the side, still dangling her in the air by holding her under the arms. "What's the matter, Frisk? Is your voice broken again?"

She shook her head, amused at his levels of concern. "Naw, m'just sleepy."

His look of relief was comical. "Oh! Good. Heaven help me if I have to be the one to tell the Queen that you were broken, little human."

"Anyway!" Papyrus finally put her down. "In mere moments, I, the _great_ Papyrus, will be sure to make you very _un_ -sleepy! This day will be exhilarating, shocking, uplifting, _momentous_!"

He strode into the kitchen and tossed her the apron that hung there. He had bought it for her last Christmas, and emblazoned across the front, it read _Junior Spaghetti Expert_. Putting her hair up in pigtails so that she wouldn't get hair in the food (Papyrus was very particular about sanitary cooking), Frisk tied the apron around her waist and dragged the little stepping stool out of the corner so that she could reach the counter to help prepare whatever dish her tall skeleton friend had chosen for the day.

Now that the Seal was broken, Papyrus didn't have to set up traps for humans anymore. As a result, he was kind of between jobs at that point; he ran small errands for the King and guarded the town, but didn't have an official title yet. He worked far fewer hours during this in-between time, and Frisk was glad. Not that Papyrus ever got tired or even slept much anyway, but she was happy to have him there for a long period of time.

"Where's Sans?" Frisk asked as she washed her hands in the tall, tall sink.

"Oh, Sans is at work...probably...Nyeh. He should be home in a few hours to join us, so worry not." Papyrus patted her head aggressively.

Together, the odd pair of friends handmade a type of pasta called stringozzi, whipping up a special sauce Papyrus had perfected to complement it. It was a lot of work, but it was fun, and it kept Frisk's mind and hands busy and alert. Noon had arrived by the time they had finished, and Frisk dug into the steaming helping of pasta she had been served. It burnt her mouth a little, but she was ravenous. Papyrus had really improved since she'd first met him; the dishes he made had gone from being barely edible to being truly delicious.

"How is it?"

She tried to say _It's really good_ , but her mouth was too full. "Iff eally good," Frisk eventually managed, making Papyrus snicker.

"You're lucky that I speak Noodle-ese, human."

When the pasta had all been slurped up and the plates had been cleaned, she and Papyrus settled on the couch with a movie. It was a movie made for kids that Alphys had found for her in the dump, but Frisk secretly suspected that Paps liked it more than she did. Once she had stopped moving around, Frisk felt her eyelids begin to droop. Instinctively, she panicked - her rapidly beating heart perking her right back up again.

God, she was so worn out. It was easy to forget that while she and Papyrus had been cooking, but now...there was no sound but the movie's audio. Papyrus was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, gazing at the screen with his hands tucked under his skull. Ever-diligent no matter what the task. Frisk tried to mimic his rapt attention to the film, but it was a struggle. Despite her best efforts, her eyelids kept falling for longer and longer periods of time; her instant fear of the recurring nightmare making them shoot open again.

Luckily, the distressing cycle was interrupted. Sans loudly made his way into the house, bringing a blast of cold air from the outside with him. "SANS!" Papyrus stood up at once, almost falling over in his hurry to welcome his brother home.

"Hey, bro. What's up?"

"FRISK AND I ARE WATCHING MY FAVORITE - ER - _HER_ FAVORITE MOVIE."

Frisk saw Sans chuckle a little, but he said nothing regarding Papyrus' love of _Beauty and the Beast_.

"Hi there, kid," He said, wandering over to ruffle her hair. "Paps here giving you any trouble?"

Mischievously, she nodded.

"FRISK! You traitor!"

Papyrus assaulted her with a barrage of tickles, making her shriek and run to hide behind Sans. With a jolt of blue magic, Sans tossed her up to the ceiling, high out of the taller brother's reach.

"SANS, NO FAIR! You know my magic isn't as strong as yours!"

"Guess you're _boned_ , then."

"SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANS -"

This led to an epic battle where the two fought to capture her, and ended with Frisk out of breath and sweaty, cheeks sore from smiling. This really was a great day. She'd only thought about the nightmares once, and even though she was still tired, Frisk didn't feel on edge for the moment.

Evening drew itself soundlessly over the little town, giving no indication but the time on the clocks to let the citizens know. The sky did not exist here; something that Frisk still found herself missing. Papyrus made chamomile tea for all of them, and they settled down in a nest of blankets to watch an MTT program before bed. Frisk wasn't the world's biggest fan, and Sans wasn't interested either, but Papyrus had the stars in his eyes whenever any program with the strange robot came on. He was obviously enamored.

The mug of tea was warm grasped in her hands, and the shelter of the blanket was like a comforting hug around her shoulders. Sans and Papyrus were on either side of her, not exactly cuddly, but nice to have around for companionship. When fatigue hit her again, Frisk didn't even realize; she had gone too long without sleep and her little body couldn't take it anymore. There was no time to fear sleep. There was no time to try and shake herself out of it. She simply relented soundlessly to the void of unconsciousness.

_She stepped forward into the blackness, both hands outstretched as she tried to find her way through the unending dark. Frisk was not alone; this she knew immediately. Something was...breathing. Something huge. Something terrifying. Something murderous. Every exhale hit her face, hot enough to make sweat bead on her brow. It reeked of old copper, of blood and despair._

_Frisk's mouth was frozen shut in a line, any words she might have thought to utter sealed away deep in her chest. There were no words for this kind of fear. There was no way to express this torment._

_With a bellow that made her ears ring, the creature waiting in the dark laughed. This was no sign of amusement; it held no humor or merriment. This was a howling shriek of insanity, the sound of a killer who had taken delight in trapping their victim._

_This was where she died. This was where she was ripped to pieces and sewn back together, only to be murdered again and again. Frisk could hear her bones splintering, could feel the blood running down her chest._

_And all the while, she screamed. She screamed in full voice, over and over, til her throat blistered. And every time, nobody came. Frisk was beyond help. Every death brought her farther away from saving, and the cackling never ceased._

**"DID YOU REALLY THINK I WOULD BE SATISFIED, KILLING YOU ONLY ONCE?"**

"Frisk. _Frisk!_ Kid, wake up, for the love of-"

Gasping, Frisk surfaced from the night terror. She was flat on her back, sweating in the cocoon of blankets on the couch. Sans' face loomed above her, eyes as wide as she'd ever seen them. She was hyperventilating, one hand grasping her chest as pains shot through it - every time she woke up from one of these, a panic attack ensued.

"Kid, come here, it's alright-" Sans reached out for her, and willingly, she went to him. Frisk was getting dizzy, and her hands had gone numb. Maybe she would pass out this time, and end up in a place where no nightmares could follow. She hoped so. Anything to _make it stop_.

Sans sat down beside her, drawing her trembling body close to his ribcage. "Shhh, calm down, I'm here. You're safe. I swear." He was murmuring to her, one hand working fast to smooth her hair in a soothing motion over and over. "That sounded like one hell of a nightmare."

For some reason, those words broke Frisk, and suddenly she was sobbing openly into his shirt. Her small fists clenched the material, speaking nonsense words as she tried to explain what she had to go through almost every night. The hyperventilating refused to cease, and she was shaking so hard that she felt her stomach muscles begin to cramp.

"Oh, jeez...kiddo…" Sans sighed, clutching her tight. "I'm so sorry that this is so bad."

Though her voice was weak and she couldn't breathe, Frisk tried to tell him that she was sorry for this. From above her, she felt him shake his head harshly. "No, don't say that. It's not your fault, not even a little. Frisk...can you look at me?"

She lifted her head to meet his eyes in the dim light of the living room. "Let's breathe, okay? Just do what I'm doing. Watch." Slowly, he sucked in a breath, and she mimicked it. After a few beats, he let it out. Frisk followed suit. He led her through it for a few minutes, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on her to make sure she was really following along. The pain in her lungs ceased considerably, and she swallowed. This was a little better.

"Good job." His smile was weak but encouraging. "Is that helping?"

"Mmhm."

"Okay. Let's do something else. Tell me about your day...what did you and Paps do before I got here?"

"W-w-we...we made stringozzi."

"Stringozzi? What's that?"

"It's a...it's a type of noodle."

"Oh yeah? Did it taste good?"

Frisk nodded, getting distracted from the panic attack by all these little questions. He continued asking her trivial things, and gradually, Frisk felt herself calming down. She had managed to stop crying, and her grip on his t-shirt loosened. He never let her go, though. The fluffiness of his coat enveloped her, a comfort.

"You feelin' better now, Friz?"

"Yeah, I think I'm...okay. ...Thank you." It was the truth, now. The crisp realism of the nightmare was fading, and she was left with only Sans' warm embrace and the quiet room.

"Hey, it's no problem. I don't even need sleep, I'm just a lazy sack of bones." Frisk felt him chuckle. "I'm glad I could help ya… I used to get nightmares, too, y'know."

"You did?" She peeked up at him.

"Mhm. I did. So bad that I was scared to close my eyes, even for a second."

That was exactly how she felt.

"How did you get b-better?" What was his secret? Did it involve a magic cure, or an item? Frisk was willing to do anything.

"Well...after the Seal broke...they just stopped. Faded away. Thanks a ton for that, kid. You really helped me - helped everyone. Haven't been this relaxed in years."

 _She_ had helped _him_? Sans, the calm, powerful, funny skeleton, felt better because of something she had done? That was incredible to her, and Frisk's cheeks grew hot with happiness. It was so awesome to know that she had helped her friends, but a twinge of disappoint hit her, too; he hadn't cured his own nightmares with a miracle method. There was probably no hope for hers, then.

"Um...w-when will... mine stop?"

He let out a long, low sigh. "That...I can't tell you. Hate to say it, but it's the truth. But I _can_ tell ya...whenever you have one of these, _call me_." He leaned back a little and grasped both of her shoulders, eyes blazing. "You shouldn't go through this all alone. Even if I'm far away, we'll talk like we did just now, and hopefully it'll make you feel better. It doesn't matter what time it is, you got that? I'll pick up."

Frisk felt herself smile a little. "Okay."

"I'll stay here with ya while you sleep, 'kay? I won't leave for the rest of the night."

Tears of relief pricked her eyes, and she hoped he didn't notice.

"Thanks, Sans. Thanks so much."

"Like I said, no problem. Now, get comfy. We'll see if you can't manage some real sleep tonight."

Doing as he said, Frisk rested with her head on his lap, cushioned by a pillow. One skeletal hand ran fingers through her hair over and over, so soothing that she was drowsy almost at once. Before she dozed off, she heard him murmur one last thing…

"Tomorrow's gonna be better, kid. I guarantee it."

She fell into a blissful, dreamless sleep right then and there.


End file.
